I read a blog last night where a friend had mentioned The Three Investigators and in that instant, all the vivid images that my mind had formed all those years back about the Junkyard, their secret hideout and their ghost-to-ghost hook up. It is unbelievable but I can almost recall every moment of the adventures of the three of them- Jupe, Pete and Bob, the way Mr. Hitchcock had described them. I must say, although I have read quite a lot of influential books in these past few years since having exhausted The Three Investigators, a few books could even come close to recreating the wonderful world created by Alfred Hitchcock. I would still prefer reading Footprints Under the Window to say The Fountainhead. I guess somewhere along the way, I forgot to grow up.
Yes, that must explain it. I started rather early into music with Boyzone and Aqua and The Backstreet Boys. Although my friends have long since gotten over the boybands, I am still stuck in that moment. I had not noticed this till yesterday but given a choice, my playlists still contain all their songs and I am still crooning their songs over and over again. Yes, I do like the others too but I haven’t gotten over the music that they gave me in my teenage years. Weird huh?
Then I got down to some soul searching and tried to recall all those years and what I was back then. I still remember those days when I cycled to school every morning and longed to get on the basketball court and then get back home and get back to playing cricket with the guys. Ah! Those were the days. One of my favourite games was and still remains, Hide-n-Seek! I was pretty darned good at it too. Six times out of ten I could jump out and give the “denner” a “dhappa” and in the process often was the first one to be sought but heck, I have always believed- Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Never in my childhood do I remember being driven by a desire to win. I enjoyed myself more in the way I played the game than I ever could when I was a winner. Winning always sucked because if I won I could not savour the game. I hate playing with intensity. It takes the fun out of a game. If you have nothing but victory on your mind, you cannot enjoy the game when it is in progress because at all times you pressure yourself to go ahead and try to win! Winning was an accident for me. If it happened it was fine but as far as possible I would rather end up second best or third best. Those were my favourite positions!
Damn, I never got over those childhood ways. I still harbour no intentions of winning anything. All through life, I have always loved the journey and the destination has hardly ever mattered to me. Think about it, the way you get somewhere is more fun than actually reaching somewhere. Some of the worst destinations have been the most fun because of the way I got there! e.g. the journey back home to Ludhiana could have not been termed more than a drab because had it not been for my folks, I could not find a single reason to make the journey. I had nothing to look forward to in Ludhiana with no friends and absolutely no hope of finding any in the short spanse of a couple of weeks. (Of course, at other times in life, two weeks in the most obscure of places have been entirely pleasing but lets not bring that up.) The reason I always looked forward to going back after every semester was the journey. Maybe I was cursed but for whatever the reason, I had not managed to travel once with a confirmed ticket and was always wait-listed or at times, with a third class ticket. The journey was always fun though, perhaps it had something to do with the wonderful circle of friends but for whatever the reason, the two days of traveling in the train were more fun than actually getting to Ludhiana! The JOURNEY, not the DESTINATION.
I never did grow up to be a mature young man. I still act on impulses and not logic. Logic after all, is so boring! I cannot imagine my life had I acted on logic and not impulse. Imagine that! I might have been a successful young computer engineer with a steady job and a fat paycheck! Yuck! I would have missed out on all the long drives to the most exotic locales, I would have missed out the fun to be had getting in trouble with all the teachers and other staff members. Heck, I would not have had all the wonderful memories for my book. Seriously, think about it. How many would actually be able to have a book about their lives filled with such anecdotes as to hold a readers fancy from cover to cover? I mean really, Bill Clinton as a president or as an impeached president? Who would pass the opportunity of being entertained by the life of Mr. Clinton after he walked into the Oval Office and set about messing with the officials? Wow, theres another term to gauge if your life has been worth living. Funny how insignificance can be interesting!